Seduce Me with the Truth
by xfmoon
Summary: A Jane introspective tag to 6x22 Blue Bird.


**A/N: **What a finale WOW just WOW! Nothing really original here just some Jane introspection.

**Spoilers: **for everything up to and including 6x22 Blue Bird.

**Disclaimer:** I've once had a blue budgerigar, but other than that I own no blue birds or the rights to The Mentalist.

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This was it. His last chance. He couldn't afford to mess this one up. He knew that. He had been on a tight schedule, time constricted. All in all it had taken him a little more than a week to plan. But that didn't matter since his plan had worked and they now had a few extra days to get this show on the road.

Seduction is an art form. One where most were easily hooked by the usual, expensive flowers, a fancy dinner, affectionate words. But when you had the skills to pull any of such a cheap trick out of your sleeve practically on command something special was needed when it was something real on the line, something like true love. Anyone could seduce someone over a meal he wouldn't stoop to that level. He'd even told her so once, and he'd meant it. It might look like what he did on a daily basis, but it wasn't his style at all. No, what he needed was something blinding, something exceptional and unique, just like her. And this had been what he'd come up with, he'd fabricated a case, well not as much fabricated as evolved. Taken a case with a nice location, a high-profile and unsolved one so she'd be forced to stay, and he'd rigged it so she would be the main one solving the puzzle, which was going to be relatively easy with the trap he'd made, but not too easy, she would have to work for it, which he already knew she was capable of.

Miscalculating how fast she would catch on, that had been his downfall. Sometimes he forgot she had known him for so long it was next to impossible to actually hide anything from her. He had been planning to tell her eventually, when it had all worked out. But it hadn't, and he couldn't. And now any effort to had been severely trampled down by her. So this was how it was going to be, she was mad, she was leaving and she didn't want anything to do with him ever again.

He was drowning his sorrows - while she fled - in vodka, rom, gin and whisky, and all the other small bottles so conveniently stashed in the minibar, that was, until he was so rudely interrupted by the case. Each time quickly resuming to numb the pain by offering alcohol to the cleared murder suspects, while he half listened to their sob stories, meanwhile nursing one of his own. Then what one of them said seemed to slide through the vodka, or was it whisky, haze find a soft spot and apply the slightest of pressures before an epiphany erupted in him and he knew what he had to do.

His last attempt was born out of share desperation. He just couldn't let her leave like this, being angry and uninformed, thinking she had only been a tool to him that she meant nothing, when in fact it was the complete opposite. Abusing his power as an FBI consultant he had run more than a few lights and stop signs, and while running through the airport he'd pushed a few unsuspecting people to get to the damn gate only to be turned away. The fence jumping, which he still couldn't even believe he'd done, it wasn't like he spend his days hurdling large objects, he wasn't young or particularly athletic anymore - and his ankle would agree with that fact - but he had to do something, make it or break it, and adrenaline was already pumping through his body at an alarming pace. He had nothing left to lose, this was it, the last shreds of his own humanity was on that plane about to leave for Washington D. C. in mere moments, possibly never to be seen or heard from again. He couldn't let that happen, not again. The two years on his little paradise island had been anything but paradise without her, not exactly hell either, purgatory maybe or something in that vicinity.

By sheer luck he managed to get onboard, found her, and scrapped as he were of all false facades, cheap - and expensive - tricks and old masks, he delivered to her the raw truth. That his heart belonged to her. And it had for a very long time. It was a truth he had denied for so long that just getting it off his chest was freeing. At least now she knew. She knew that he loved her, that he was scared but that he couldn't bear to wake up and not see her every day. He had poured out his soul before getting arrested, planes were no place for romantic lunatics according to airport security.

He stared at his elevated leg. It didn't hurt nearly as much as the ache in his heart. _"It's too late Jane, it's too late."_ That little sentence was the only thing he heard in the quiet of the room, it was replaying over and over in his mind. _Too late, it was too late_. Maybe if he'd just said something sooner, maybe then she wouldn't be gone now. He was such an idiot. A woman didn't need to be seduced by a fancy dinner or an elaborate scam. A woman didn't need to hear lies in order to love. All a woman really needed was to know the truth. It was that simple. But it was _too late_ now.

The door opened and someone entered. He didn't care who it was, that was, until his nostrils caught a vague scent of cinnamon and he saw a silhouette of a woman with long, dark wavy hair out of the corner of his eyes. She had gotten off the plane! He looked up and he could have sworn he'd never seen such a beautiful sight.

He swore right then and there that he'd never again deny her the truth. And he sealed that deal with a kiss. The truth had finally set him free.

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**A/N: **Not my best work, practically wrote it all the day after the finale, I'm still in some kind of happy chock state after seeing it. OMG! Did they really just become canon, it feels so surreal, in a good way of course.


End file.
